Hi everyone... Well, I'm back with Chapter 85 this time... Enjoy!

"Professor, how is your hand?" asked Ron as he glanced at nasty-looking Dumbledore's injured hand.

"Not very well, Ron," replied Dumbledore with a weak smile. "It is not quite usable," he added.

Ron stared at him confused, in response. "What happened, Professor? You never did tell me how you got injured," he asked.

"Maybe another time," smiled Dumbledore in response. After a moment or two, Dumbledore spoke up. "You have progressed well in the past few months," he began. Ron nodded proudly. "But, I'm too weak for us to continue on the journey we had begun," he added and glanced at his right arm, the hand of which looked dead, and the arm seemed to be slowly turning dark. Ron stared at him confused and slightly worried.

"Professor... I don't understand," began Ron but stopped as he saw Dumbledore continue speaking.

"I have something else planned for you," remarked Dumbledore. "If you'll please follow me," he added and slowly got up from his seat. Ron followed Dumbledore out of the class and soon found himself following the headmaster out to the castle grounds. To his surprise, Dumbledore seemed to continue walking, even if slowly. Finally, when the pair approached the entry of the forbidden forest, Ron spoke up.

"Professor?" he called out, surprised. "We are going into the forest?" he asked a moment later.

"Yes," replied Dumbledore and continued walking. The pair were deep into the forest when Dumbledore paused, looked around for a few seconds and came to a definitive stop. Ron stared at him and then at the surroundings. There wasn't anything peculiar about where they were standing.

"Ron," called out Dumbledore. "This is going to feel impossible at first, but I have every confidence in you that you will triumph," he remarked with a smile. "Now, please do not resist," he added and took out his wand with his left hand. With a flick of his wand, a scarf-like piece of cloth wrapped itself around Ron's eyes, rendering him practically blind.

"Professor?" exclaimed Ron, alarmed.

"Ron, don't be alarmed," replied Dumbledore, calmly. With another flick of his wand, 8 large mannequins came to life and surrounded Ron completely, standing just a few feet away from him in a circle. "I have fashioned 8 different attackers around you," began Dumbledore. "They will attack you at random," he added.

"What?" gasped Ron.

"And you will have to defend against these attacks," finished Dumbledore.

"B... B... but..." stammered Ron as he stood frozen. "I can't see anything, Professor," he remarked as he tried to stand without tripping.

"You will have to use your other senses, Ron... Concentrate on what you can do and everything will flow," replied Dumbledore, reassuringly. "The mannequins will only try to stun you," he added.

However, for the rest of the session, Ron found himself stunned left right and centre. There were a few instances where he got lucky and managed to shield himself, but otherwise, it was a one-sided contest.

After the first few minutes, Ron tried a few clever things. After getting frustrated, having been hit by a weak, yet stunner nonetheless, Ron decided to produce a potent fire capable of taking everything around him out.

"Incendio," cried Ron blindly and after just a moment, he swished his wand around him. A blazing fire erupted out of his wand and soared around him, burning some of the trees and most importantly, all the mannequins Dumbledore had created.

For the following few seconds, there was silence. Ron, wondering the effects of his actions, moved around gingerly and finally, spoke up. "Professor?" he called out. Almost instantly, he got hit by a stunner and fell to his knees. "What?" he gasped, shocked.

"That was clever, Ron... But I have brought another set to life," remarked Dumbledore with a smile.

"Fine, I'll do it again," exclaimed Ron. And he did, but Dumbledore brought them back again. This happened a few times before Ron gave up.

"Professor, what am I supposed to do?" he asked in an exasperated tone.

"You are powerful enough to take them out, Ron. But that is not what we are here to do," replied Dumbledore, but didn't say anything further.

After failing to guess where the next attack was coming from and getting hit multiple times, Ron proceeded to produce a shield so powerful, it engulfed him completely. One after another, the stunners from the mannequins bounced off the shield. A minute went by, and then another, but Ron couldn't keep up the shield forever. And finally, when he got tired, his shield gave way and he got hit by another stunner. Ron tried it a few times, and every time, his shield lasted a little less long than it did the previous time, and every time he got instantly after his shield gave way.

Soon, it was the end of the session.

"Let's meet here for the next session," remarked Dumbledore. Ron, who was still adjusting his eyes after being tied blind for more than an hour, nodded in response, weakly. He had light bruises all over his body and he was extremely thirsty.

This was the first session after the semester break. The following few sessions went in the same fashion. Ron found himself tied blind and surrounded by multiple mannequins that Dumbledore had brought to life. While he came up with creative solutions to defend himself, he'd ultimately be defeated. Every time Ron gave up and asked Dumbledore how to protect himself better, Dumbledore didn't reply. Instead, he told Ron to continue trying.

A few weeks went in this fashion. Finally, in the middle of one of the sessions, Dumbledore untied Ron's eyes, yet kept the mannequins active. The moment one of the mannequins attacked Ron, Ron had his shield up in the correct direction and defended himself. This repeated a few times over the next minute or two. And then, without uttering a word, Dumbledore pointed his wand at the mannequins and they stopped and put their wands away.

"Ron, would you please step away?" asked Dumbledore. Ron stepped away from the middle and to his surprise, Dumbledore stepped in, instead of him.

"Would you please?" gestured Dumbledore glancing at Ron. After a moment's hesitation, Ron flicked his wand, and a similar scarf-like cloth flew out of his wand and tied itself around Dumbledore's eyes.

Dumbledore muttered something and pointed his wand at Ron. "Ron, you now have control over the mannequins," remarked Dumbledore.

Bewildered, Ron, pointed his wand at the mannequin that stood farthest from him. Instantly, the mannequin fired a stunner at Dumbledore. But, to Ron's mild shock, Dumbledore blocked the stunner effortlessly. Curiously, Ron proceeded to point his wand at multiple mannequins, one after another, and every time, Dumbledore defended against the stunner successfully. After a few minutes, Dumbledore flicked his wand and the blindfold came off and the mannequins came to a rest. Ron stared at Dumbledore in awe.

Dumbledore smiled as he glanced at Ron. "So, how did I just do that?" he asked. Ron continued staring at Dumbledore, now with a mixture of awe and confusion.

"Did you read my mind or something?" replied Ron, after a few seconds.

"No, that is not the motive of this training regimen," chuckled Dumbledore in response.

"These were your mannequins, you knew which one was going to fire the stunner," replied Ron after a few seconds. This time, Dumbledore just gave Ron a quiet stare in response and Ron smiled apologetically.

After a few attempts, Ron gave up. "I don't understand, Professor," he remarked. "I have tried everything I know... I can't think of anything, anyway to defend myself from these stunners. How will I know which one is going to fire at me when I'm blindfolded?" he added.

Dumbledore smiled at him calmly. After a few seconds, he replied. "When I took off your blindfold, you were able to defend yourself quite easily. Why?" he asked.

"Because I could see where the attack was coming from..." replied Ron, nonchalantly.

"And when you were blindfolded, why couldn't you defend yourself?" asked Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eye.

Ron stared at him, a little confused. "Because I couldn't see where the attack was coming from..." he replied, hesitantly. "And I was not allowed to repel the attack any other way," he added.

"No," remarked Dumbledore in response. After a moment, he continued. "When you were blindfolded, you tried defending yourself the same way you'd have defended were you not blindfolded," he replied. "How can you hope to follow the same method and get the same result when you are no longer the same person?" he added.

Ron stood silently, taking in everything Dumbledore said. "When someone attacks me, I generally see what they are doing and I respond to it. But if I can't see what they are doing, or where they are attacking from, how can I respond?" he thought to himself. "We have only so many senses. If I can't smell or taste it, that leaves hearing or feeling it."

"Now, close your eyes," exclaimed Dumbledore and Ron came out of his thoughts.

"Yes, Professor," replied Ron and promptly closed his eyes.

"Feel the breeze blowing... Concentrate on what you are feeling, the chill, the slight shiver you are feeling..." remarked Dumbledore in a low deep voice. Ron did as he was told. He tried to remove all the other thoughts and feelings from his mind and focused deeply on the cold wind brushing past his body. Suddenly everything seemed calm and quiet. There were some sounds from the birds and the rustling of the trees, but it was all calm and quiet. And then he felt something, a slight change, he couldn't understand what it was. Ron turned his head slightly towards his left and almost immediately he was hit by a stunner, this time from the wand of Albus Dumbledore. Ron got pushed back and fell to his knees as he opened his eyes. But, he wasn't angry or annoyed that he was hit by a spell without being warned about it. He had just realised something, something no one had ever told him.

As Ron glanced at Dumbledore, he found a smiling face staring back at him.

"I still can't believe how you saved that double shot..." gasped Colin in awe as chants of "Ron" chorused in the entire Gryffindor common room.

"You were fantastic out there," remarked Hermione with a beaming smile and grabbed Ron into a small hug.

"Thanks, Hermione," beamed Ron, a little blushing.

"Thanks, everyone," he exclaimed loudly and everyone cheered excitedly.

"What a game," gasped Harry as he sat down, tired.

"Don't be hard on yourself... This is the first time you have failed to catch the snitch," whispered Hermione as she sat down beside him.

"I don't know... It just wasn't my day, I guess," replied Harry in a low tone. "You were fabulous mate," he added with a big smile as he patted Ron on the back.

The Gryffindor common room was in a jubilant mood, their quidditch team had just defeated the Slytherin team 330 to 280 in what was a one-sided match, all thanks to Ron Weasley. Draco Malfoy's snitch grab was the only reason the Slytherin team ended with a respectable score. While the entire Gryffindor team showed their form, it was Ron's string of excellent saves, a few of them, quite breathtaking, that kept the Slytherins frustrated throughout the game. And the Gryffindor chasers Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson did the rest.

Soon, the ravenous Gryffindor team and the equally hungry fans went down to the great hall for a late lunch. Harry and Hermione sat together while Ron, Colin and Neville sat opposite the couple. They were in the middle of their lunch when something happened. The conversation at the table was mostly about the game they had just won, different moments that everyone remembered and cherished.

There was laughter around the table as Neville finished describing the faces the Slytherin students had when Ron managed to grab the quaffle during one particularly intense moment. Just then Hermione glanced at Harry casually.

"Hey... I almost forgot. We have the next slug club meeting, coming Thursday," she said in a low tone, almost reaching out to Harry's ears.

"We do?" asked Harry, surprised. "I didn't get any invite," he added.

"You didn't? That's not possible. I got it in the morning. Maybe he couldn't find you," suggested Hermione in response, a little perplexed.

"Yeah, probably," sighed Harry.

The day went on and the following day went by, Harry waited patiently, curiously and a little worried. But he did not receive the invite. The following morning, during breakfast, the topic of the slug club invitation came up once again.

"I heard you didn't get invited to the slug club dinner!" remarked Ron as he took a sip of the juice.

"What are you saying?" gasped Hermione as she glanced at Harry. "How come are you not invited?" she asked, shocked.

"Wow, Hermione... Never once did you ask me this, did you?" chuckled Ron. Hermione gave Ron a quick glance and turned back to stare at Harry.

"Don't look at me like that, Hermione. I'm not invited... What can I say to that?" retorted Harry, gloomily.

"Why are you not invited? Did something happen between the two of you?" asked Hermione.

Nothing had explicitly happened between Harry and Professor Slughorn. During the last slug club meeting, Harry had the perfect opportunity to ask Slughorn what he told Tom Riddle about Horcruxes, but it dissipated, for he suddenly found himself waking up from the floor, a few feet away from where he was earlier sitting. And in the embarrassment that flooded him, he left the office without saying another word. But, that was quite a while back. However, Harry had noticed that something between him and Professor Slughorn had changed that evening. Ever since then that incident, Slughorn had been acting a bit cold towards Harry, treating him just like any other student and not the pedestal he seemed to have earlier been on.

"No... No, I don't think so," replied Harry, incoherently as multiple thoughts flooded him. After a moment, he continued. "You know what? It's actually a good thing that I'm not invited," he said, trying to sound pleased. "I'm already extremely busy with so many things, missing an evening get-together would save me some time," he added, and with that, the conversation moved on. However, Harry was now concerned. If he had to retrieve the information that Slughorn had, he had to do something to make the equation between them better.

Harry and Professor White were just about to end their session. Harry's mood had gone downhill in the past few days. He had a poor performance in the quidditch game against Slytherin, and then he discovered he hadn't been invited to the Slug Club. For the past few weeks, he has been struggling with his sleep, constant nightmares filled with moments from his past haunted him. And to top it all off, his Occlumency training with Professor White was going nowhere. He was struggling to keep his thoughts out of his head. The only upside to this was that, recently, Professor White was unusually patient with Harry throughout the sessions.

"It is not an easy art, Mr Potter... Not everyone can become an accomplished Occlumens. It often takes years to perfect it. And circumstances play a big role in that. You're after all, just 15 years old," remarked White.

"But, I'm not like every 15-year-old, am I, Professor?" sighed Harry, distraught.

There was a silence that lasted a few moments between the pair.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born as the seventh month dies... He will have power the Dark Lord knows not... Trapped with him in an unendless cycle, the Dark Lord will mark him his equal... Everything will be lost... Neither can live while the other survives... And it will begin once again..." recited Harry. "This is the prophecy, you know..." he began.

"I'm well aware of the prophecy, Mr Potter. Have you been dwelling on its words?" retorted White, curiously.

"Dwelling..." chuckled Harry. "No, Professor... Well, I do... sometimes... Earlier, I used to think about it a lot. Nowadays, not so much," he replied. And he quickly continued, "But, if the prophecy is true, then there must be a way I can defeat him, right?" he asked.

"After all these years it feels strange to me to tell someone else not to believe in prophecies. But, that is the reality. One would be better off doing their best than dwelling on someone else's words," replied White. "So, no, Mr Potter... There may not be a way for you to defeat the Dark Lord. But, that does not mean that you stop fighting. There are many ways to win a war, defeating and killing your enemy is just one of them," he added.

"And what about my nightmares and disturbed sleep? Are you sure that Tom isn't behind it?" asked Harry, looking concerned.

"There are no traces, no evidence whatsoever that your mind has been toyed with. I have checked and rechecked it... As for why you are reliving your worst moments during your sleep, the most likely cause is our training," replied White. "Through our training, your mind is being put under immense stress, something you are not used to. These are just the side effects. You will soon stop experiencing difficulty in sleep," he added, reassuringly.

Soon, the session was over, and Harry made his way out of the suitcase, out of the office to the Gryffindor common room. Meanwhile, White received a surprise visitor.

"Professor Snape," exclaimed White, surprised.

"Professor White," greeted Snape, with a blank expression.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" remarked White.

"I have been discussing... matters... with the headmaster," began Snape. "It has come to my attention, that Mr Potter has been taking Occlumency training from yourself," he remarked.

"He is," replied White.

"And failing," continued Snape.

"Failing... I wouldn't use such harsh words, Professor Snape," chuckled White, though there was barely any smile on his face.

"Be that as it may, the fact remains that Potter is incapable of shielding his mind from the Dark Lord. And we both know what he's capable of," retorted Snape, coldly.

"It's quite late in the evening for chitchat, Professor Snape. Why are you here, at this time of the day?" snapped White, a glimmer of anger in his eyes.

"How is Harry doing?" asked Snape.

"He is fine," replied White.

"And he hasn't had any visions since Christmas?"

"No"

"If there comes a time..." began Snape and paused. "And there will," he continued. "That Harry feels the Dark Lord's mental assault... you bring him to me," he finished.

White stared at Snape for a moment and replied, "Sure, Professor Snape," he said. Snape swiftly turned around and was about to walk out of the office, when White spoke up.

"Professor Snape," he called out.

"Yes," acknowledged Snape as he turned back around, slowly.

"I wouldn't leave my possessions lying around if I were you. Especially when such possessions could cause hurt and danger," remarked White. Snape stared at him, a hint of confusion in his eyes. "I am referring to your book, of course," added White and picked up the Advanced Potion-Making book from the table and handed it to Snape.

"My book?" retorted Snape with a blank expression as he took the book handed to him.

"Yes, your book, Professor Snape. Are you not, the Half-blood Prince?" asked White, emphasizing the title clearly. After a moment's silence, he continued, "Quite clever with the name, I must add. Took me a while to discover the real identity," he added. And once he realised that Snape wasn't going to respond, he continued. "If I were you, Professor Snape, I wouldn't write down my spells, my ideas in a school book and leave it lying around where anyone could find it," he remarked with a smirk. "Oh, imagine if this book ends up in the wrong hands... Tut tut tut..." he taunted. And almost instantly, Snape turned around and walked away, furiously.

Meanwhile, in a distant part of the world...

"Crucio," rang the voice in their ears as their body writhed and twisted in pain. But, there was a strength in their eyes, a strength that was born out of duty, a strength that defied logic, a strength that let them outlive the pain and suffering and protect the secret of the wand. But every strength had its breaking point. And theirs was their daughter.

The following morning, the world mourned the loss of Sofia Conte and her husband Francesco. "Sofia, the descendant of the great Isabella Conte, a pioneer in wand making, along with her husband were found murdered in their home. They leave behind a daughter, aged 3."

Benjamin White was already in Albus Dumbledore's office.

"Dumbledore... We have to start taking this seriously," remarked White, angrily. "Let me use my resources in finding who is behind this," he added.

"If they found Conte, they know the path they have to trace. And we both know that it'll lead to me," sighed Dumbledore as he held his wand in front of him.

"Thirst for the Elder wand has left a lot of bodies behind, Albus..." sighed White. "You reckon our dear friend is behind this?" he asked, dreading Dumbledore's response.

"The Riddle family is known to possess a certain artefact, my friend," replied Dumbledore as he pointed to the ring that lay in front of him. "There's every chance that he has discovered the hallows and is coming after it," he added.

"I'll get my men to work, then..." retorted White and left Dumbledore's office.

Hope you liked this chapter... I will be on a hiatus for a couple of weeks or more. But I will be back with Chapter 86 with a bang... Ciao!